


a late night visitor

by narrativefoiltrope



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, in this house we love an extended metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narrativefoiltrope/pseuds/narrativefoiltrope
Summary: mason does not understand why the detective is attempting to befriend a stray cat (or, an extended metaphor)
Relationships: Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	a late night visitor

**Author's Note:**

> written as part of 31 days of wayhaven, prompt: feral.  
> come yell about twc with me on tumblr: @narrativefoiltrope

Mason is sitting and smoking on the roof of the warehouse when he hears her voice.

“There you go, handsome!” Winter says from below him on the warehouse grounds. 

Who the hell is she talking to outside at 11pm? 

He sits a little straighter and listens intentionally now, picking up a soft scraping sound—paper on grass, maybe—and two heartbeats. Hers, slightly quicker than its normal steady tempo—is she excited?—and a faster, smaller beat. Not human and not big, whatever it is. 

A hiss rings out against his ears and he has his answer. 

Rising, he ambles to the edge of the roof to see her sitting cross-legged on the grass. A small paper plate with cat food (he guesses, from the overwhelming smell of unidentifiable fish) is in front of her and in front of that is a large, angry, orange tomcat. The cat’s ears are flat on its head, lips curled, back arched. 

Mason takes another drag on his cigarette before saying, “Don’t think he likes that flavour, sweetheart.” 

At the sound of his voice, the cat bolts and Winter’s head whips around until her wide brown eyes find his grey ones through the dark. When she spots him, a soft smile breaks over her face before she puts on an exaggerated expression of annoyance.

“Mason, you made him run away!” she gently admonishes as she gets to her feet. “Tonight was the closest he’s come to me.” 

He quirks a brow that she can’t see, but he guesses she can tell—she reads him in a way that makes him…uneasy? Nah, it’s probably just turned on. _Just a different_ kind _of turned on. Yeah._ He stamps out his cigarette and leaps down to stand near her. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this?”

Winter shakes her head. “No, I saw him for the first time about two weeks ago, I think? He looked hungry so I picked up some food and I’ve been leaving out plates for him. Last week I started sitting out here after feeding him to see if he’ll come near me.”

Mason snorts and asks, “Are you trying to domesticate him or something? It didn’t seem like he was going for it.” He takes a step closer to her and adds, “Besides, I can think of much more fun ways for you to spend your nights.”

Winter doesn’t respond to the innuendo. She never outwardly does, even if her heart rate picks up. But hey, he can still try, especially when that mouth of hers is so close and he is reminded of how tender it was on his own the one time—a month ago now—she gave in to his advances. And all it took was getting mauled by Trappers. 

She sighs and his attention returns to the present. “I don’t want him as a pet, but he was hungry and I had food—why wouldn’t I help him if I could?” she asks, her trademark earnest expression firmly in place.

“Why _would_ you?” he challenges.

She shrugs. “Because even difficult beings deserve kindness.” 

Mason shakes his head, yet again unable to come up with a retort in the face of her disarming sincerity. 

So he doesn’t say anything. 

They stand in comfortable silence for a few minutes until he notices Winter start shivering. He drapes an arm around her shoulders—easy to do, since she’s almost as tall as him—jerks his head back at the warehouse, and says, “Come on, I don’t think he’s coming back tonight.” Winter nods in agreement and lets him guide her. 

As they head towards the entrance, Mason picks up on the other heartbeat again. He glances over his shoulder just in time to see the stray cat dash back to the plate, and points out the cat’s return to Winter: “Looks like it’ll be awhile before you get through to him, sweetheart.”

She offers him a genuine smile. “Then it’s a good thing I’m very patient.”


End file.
